


Control

by theofficialdramallama



Category: Ballykissangel
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-10 08:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theofficialdramallama/pseuds/theofficialdramallama
Summary: It was all always under the surface for the two of them. After all, that was the pinnacle of their relationship, wasn't it? A shaky foundation. One wrong move and everything would crumble around them...





	1. Hungry Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> {A/N: Just a quick note before we begin - for the sake of this fic, I've scrapped the court case plot-point. So, to clarify, at this moment in my version of canon, Peter and Assumpta did have that kiss in Niamh's kitchen, but they haven't spoken to each other since Assumpta ran out…}}

_{A/N: Just a quick note before we begin - for the sake of this fic, I've scrapped the court case plot-point. So, to clarify, at this moment in my version of canon, Peter and Assumpta_ did _have that kiss in Niamh's kitchen, but they haven't spoken to each other since Assumpta ran out…}_

* * *

**_Chapter 1_ **

**_Friday - 10:20 pm_ **

The food fair was in full swing. However, not everyone was having as great a time as they should be having. Instead, two people had spent the night subtly avoiding each other. Every now and again, their gazes would unintentionally meet, leading to the two quickly distracting themselves in opposite directions. It had always been like that with them. A finely-tuned, silent agreement had developed over time, leading to both of them concurrently burying their heads in the sand as to what was unfolding before them. 

"Any chance of a top-up there, Assumpta?"

The owner of the pub plastered on a smile as she pulled yet another pint for Padraig, speedily working on an order for Brendan, too. One could say that she was simply being efficient, given the special event taking place her establishment. However, she knew fully well that she was merely keeping busy as she dealt with the overflow of customers. Even the rain outside seemed to surround the establishment with a murky hue.

* * *

 " _This is where the 'Forty Shades of Green' comes from."_

" _Sorry?" The man peeked out from behind the tattered cloth, momentarily distracted from the act of drying himself off._

" _It's a song." She glanced up through the windscreen at the dreary shower surrounding her battered van. "'Forty Shades of Grey' would be more accurate, but then there's the image to consider."_

_The outsider simply let out a little chuckle and a goofy smile in response._

* * *

How was it that everything these days always seemed to lead back to him?

* * *

**_Saturday - 1:30 am_ **

Peter, on the other hand, was struggling. That was why, as last orders were called and the last few stragglers stumbled outside, Peter took the opportunity to duck into the bathroom. They needed to sort this out. Now. 

After a few moments, the pub had become silent. Gulping a little, Peter emerged from his hiding spot and moved in the direction of the only prominent light source left - the kitchen.

"Assumpta… We need to talk."

Assumpta merely matched his gaze from where she sat, her finger tracing the rim of her wine glass. Once she finally spoke, her voice was as cold and sharp as the north-westerly gale that could be heard outside. "Oh, do we, _Father_?"

She knocked back the last bit of her drink, standing up with the intention of heading to the sink. Instead, she felt a hand on her arm, leading her to reluctantly take the bait. She placed the glass on the table again.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" 

Peter knew damn well that she knew exactly what the subject matter was going to be. How could she not? Regardless, he played along.

"Last night…" He paused, desperately trying to find the right words. 

She beat him to the punch, fiery temper rearing its ugly head once again. If he was just going to reject her, he sure was taking his time with it!

"Last night, you just slipped. It happens. You're a priest. It can't happen. It _shouldn't_ happen. You weren't in your right mind, after your mother and all that." Now it was her turn to hesitate, the tears threatening to fill her eyes betraying her strong exterior. "You _regretted_ it. You–"

"I didn't regret it. Not one bit."

He jutted into her speech, gingerly clasping her hand in his and taking a deep breath before continuing.

"That moment was all I’ve wanted for the last three years."

He let go of her, instead placing his hands on her cheeks as he stared deep into her eyes. God, she was _beautiful_. He could feel his own tears appearing with a vengeance as he spoke three simple words.

"I want you."

With that statement, the proverbial floodgates opened for Assumpta. He _wanted_ her _._ The problem was - did she want him, too? Three years of missed chances and stolen glances… They were never just for show. Ever since she picked him up in her van that day, she had loved him. She knew that now. All that time, she had subconsciously grown to love his scraggy jumpers, his innocent and caring demeanour, his crooked smile, his hands, his…

Before she could stop herself, she closed what little space was left between them, her lips meeting his.

Peter was only momentarily stunned, his hands slipping down to her supple curves as he deepened the kiss. Without a second thought, he pushed her hard against the wall of the kitchen. Assumpta opened her mouth slightly, daring him to enter. He complied willingly, his tongue slipping inside, teasing her bottom lip as he pulled her closer.

Soon, she felt his lips on her neck, causing her legs to go weak. She tilted her head, letting out a soft moan as his kisses became more intense. She reached to roughly and impulsively undo the buttons on his shirt. However, her fingers ended up inadvertently touching something stiff, causing her to freeze.

_The dog collar._

"Oh _God!_ "

Pushing Peter away, she bolted to the other end of the room, heart racing. He watched her with a torn expression. Stepping forward, he reached out in a pleading gesture.

"A-Assumpta, I–"

"I… I have to go!" She was sobbing now. She grabbed the van keys from the counter and her coat from where it lay slung around the back of the chair. Shoving past him, she practically ran out of Fitzgerald's, putting on the coat roughly as she did so.

Good thing she had grabbed it, too, because the weather had deteriorated throughout the night. Nevertheless, Assumpta desperately tried to ignore the rapidly decreasing sight of a distraught Peter in the rear-view mirror through tear-blurred vision. She just needed to get out of that pub, of Ballykissangel. She needed to think. Away from _him_.

She’d kissed Peter. A _priest_ , for God's sake! It wasn't just him, though. She was married to Leo. She was never that concerned about Christianity, but she knew for a fact that wanting to have sex with Peter while she was still married to Leo was morally wrong on so many levels.

Oh God, she even wanted to have _sex_ with him!

Her mind was still swirling with jumbled thoughts as she reached the hilly outskirts of Ballykissangel. The torrential rain was making it harder and harder to see, even with the Renault's windscreen wipers going at full-speed.

Maybe that was the reason why she didn't spot the fallen tree trunk sooner.

She pulled the steering wheel hard to the right - spinning the van away from the tree. Next thing she knew, the van crashed through a wooden fence protecting the roadside field. She tried to brake, to slow down, to do _anything._ All she could hear was the deafening sound of glass shattering and metal crunching as the van rolled down the field. She was spun around like a dirty t-shirt in a washing machine.

Eventually, the van came to a shuddering stop, the rain enveloping it like a curtain. Silence reigned supreme.


	2. Fallen

**Chapter 2**

Siobhan let out a muffled yawn as she packed the rest of her supplies into the back of her jeep. Trust the universe to put a calf in a ditch on the very same night as the food fair! Jumping into the driver’s seat, she buckled up, rubbing her hands together in an effort to generate some heat before starting up the vehicle and driving away.

It may have been the middle of the night but she took her time regardless, turning on the radio just in time to catch [Met Éireann](http://www.met.ie/about/default.asp).

_“…and again, please do try to stay indoors and try not to make any unnecessary journeys. Storm Theresa should dissipate by morning but a Status Orange warning remains until 7:00 am…”_

“Well missy, I have a lovely comfy bed to go home to, so don’t you worry!” Siobhan chuckled to herself as the DJ regained control on the airwaves.

_“…Well, for anyone who has the unfortunate luck to be stuck with Storm Theresa, here’s something to keep you company. One of the biggest hits over the last few months…”_

* * *

Peter didn’t know what the hell to do. Chasing Assumpta into the pouring rain had ruined his garments which meant that he had ended up back at his own house, changing into his casual wear. Sinking into the soft armchair in the living room, he placed his head in his hands. His stomach was in knots. Should he have followed her? Knowing Assumpta, she probably wanted to be alone for a while. Whatever the case, he couldn’t seem to shake the impending sense of guilt creeping up within himself.

* * *

She awoke slowly to the sound of rain pattering down around her. Her eyes snapped open, to find not her bedroom but the crumpled remains of her Renault. As panic filled her heart, she tried her hardest to push open the driver’s door, again and again but to no avail. Conscious but disoriented, Assumpta wasn’t going to give up. She wasn’t going to give whoever was up there the satisfaction.

* * *

As she neared Ballykissangel, Siobhan let out a sigh at the sight of the fallen tree trunk. As if this trip could get any longer! Rolling her eyes, she was about to ring Ambrose when a blinking set of headlights caught her eye.

* * *

The shrill sound of the landline phone reverberated throughout the living room. Glancing at the ticking wall clock at the opposite end of the room, Peter took in the time with a confused expression. He must have slept right through to daybreak if the sunlight streaming through the window was anything to go by. Rubbing his eyes, he almost didn’t pick it up. Deep down however, he knew he couldn’t ignore his duties. So, he cleared his throat and answered the call.

“Hello?”

* * *

Peter’s association with the Church had a positive impact for once, granting him access to the ward, albeit after some confusion because of his civvies. Fortunately, Michael had spotted the priest’s exasperated quarrel with the receptionist and vouched for him.

All the usual suspects were there. Siobhan gestured widely as she spoke to Ambrose, who seemed to be taking a statement from her. Brendan stood beside her, massaging her back gently in a comforting gesture - a sight that would have normally warmed Peter’s heart if it wasn’t for the present circumstances. Padraig blankly stared at the opposite wall as he sat on one of the metal chairs beside a frazzled-looking Niamh, who was juggling a restless Kieran in her arms. She noticed him first, her voice trembling just a little as she spoke.

“Peter..!”

Everyone glanced up at him, their expressions softening into looks of pity and sadness. Peter could hear Michael informing him that they couldn’t enter while the doctor was examining Assumpta. He merely nodded as he put one foot in front of the other, making his way over to the small glass window to her room. It took a few moments to get a proper look at her, but when he eventually could, it took Peter’s breath away.

Assumpta’s features were dotted with various cuts and scrapes. Her skin was pale, from a distance almost looking ghostly white. Various tubes and wires connected her to the monitors that were beeping at a steady rate. Her hair fanned around her as her head lay on the pillow. Tears pricked at the back of Peter’s eyes as the guilt that had lodged in his stomach increased tenfold. If only he had stopped her. If only he hadn’t kissed her back. If only he hadn’t confessed.

If only.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sight of the doctor exiting the room. Peter turned to face the middle-aged man, lips parted to speak. However, somebody else beat him to it.

“How is she?”

Peter glanced over at the direction of the voice and came face-to-face with its source.

“Leo.”


End file.
